


Heaven and Hell

by slytherinsninja



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Destiel - Freeform, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gates of Hell, Heaven, Heaven & Hell, Hell, King of Hell Dean, M/M, Post-War, Ruler of Heaven Castiel, Ruler of Hell, Supernatural Hunters, casdean - Freeform, cw supernatural - Freeform, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-23 07:24:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11985030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherinsninja/pseuds/slytherinsninja





	Heaven and Hell

As Castiel walked down the dark streets of Lawrence, he couldn't help but think that the King of Hell was a little but too dramatic for his own good.

Of course he understood why the ruler of Hell associated this town in Kansas with the most cruel, most evil place in the world, however the Angel stood to his previous statement: The king of Hell had always been a Drama Queen. Or perhaps king? Drama King. It was nice for Castiel to realise that even after almost a decade, he had still kept his terrible sense of humour.

The underground tunnels in Lawrence were something mildly popular, they were known for their dangerous, creepy appearance where according to rumours animals were kept in jars. The tunnels were dangerous, and each and every single person who entered was either suicidal or just plain stupid.   
They weren't fancy in any way, their ceiling possibly three foot high and mould, grime and must caked the walls. The perfect place to put the Gates of Hell.

The new king had them moved when he rose to the throne, the old location of the entrance hadn't been secure and secret after the battle any more.

At least that was what the king had claimed those many nights ago, however Castiel knew better. The Angel liked to think that he knew the king, his traits, his imperfections, his personality. He knew the King of Hell like the back of his hand. Or, well, the back of his vessel's hand. How couldn't he? The had fought by each other's sides often enough to know each other's fighting techniques, movements and the way the other swung their blade. How they reacted to complications, the king's determination and loyalty was familiar to Castiel. How couldn't they be? 

After the war had finally ended, they had sat down together to discuss what would happen to the world once their ultimate threat had been defeated. Three men who had been the heroes of so many wars were sent to carry the world and it's remains.   
It was discussed who would take care of the many souls in both Heaven and Hell, and who would rest with the Humans on Earth.   
And then they had come to an agreement. Castiel would rule Heaven and his friend would take over Hell. The third would stay with humanity, watching it and finally getting to live.  
That night, as Castiel had risen from the table to travel back up to claim God's side, the new appointed Ruler of Hell rose as well and the two parted with a kiss, knowing that they wouldn't see each other for a while. 

And now here Castiel was, standing at the entrance of an underground tunnel, covered in dirt and sweat, seven years later.

The new King of Hell didn't place the new entrance to his kingdom in Lawrence, Kansas for not onny the reason that the old location hadn't been safe any more, he could have placed it anywhere in the entire world, however he had a story in Lawrence. 

A deep, meaningful and personal bond tied the king to the sixth largest city of Kansas. Something so important, that it could not ever be taken away from the eternal man. And the Angel knew that this emotional bond was the reason the King placed the Gates in these underground tunnel, the ones no one with a healthy mind dared enter. The perfect place to keep the damned souls of humans.

Castiel spanned his wings, they had been healing. It has taken some time and it has been painful, but as Ruler of Heaven, as an Angel of the Lord, Castiel had had no greater wish than to fly again. And after years of treatment, years of questioning around, years of the heartbreaking mess that had been Heaven, Castiel was able to fly again.  
It was only short distances for now, however he already felt stronger than he did before. He had kept his Truck though, the one he stole in 2017, but it was rarely used nowadays.   
The feeling of the cold wind breezing through the black feathers rewarded Castiel with a relaxing sensation, something very human, but human was good.

Many Angels had first believed that because Castiel seemed to have a little too much Heart and he tended to feel perhaps a few too many emotions that weren't exactly angelic, that he wasn't fit to rule Heaven, however they were soon proven wrong. Due to Castiel's kind heart and genuine equivilant of Soul, the humans haven't suffered from the hands of an Angel, Castiel was in control of himself and Heaven but this time he wasn't working against the rest of the Angels, he was working with them. 

With his wings still outstretched, the Angel teleported into the narrow tunnels. It was dark, pitch black even, but thanks to his Angel senses, Castiel was able to feel its powerful aura that radiated misery. The tunnels smelled damp and mouldy, the floor was wet and with every step the Angel took, the pull to the deathly Gates grew stronger. 

The door was metal, that was one of the only interesting things about it, the other being that it led to Hell. It was too simple looking to provoke interest for the common by-passer, not that there were many. Castiel touched two fingers to the cool metal and with a bone chilling creak it opened by itself. Behind it was pitch black darkness and an eerie silence. The Angel knew anxiety all to well, however he had never felt it as strongly as at the moment, but he had to do this, he had to enter Hell. Castiel had to finally meet the King of Hell after seven years of complete silence, and so he stood straight and stepped through the metal door. The door fell shut with a loud crash and the Angel was swallowed by the darkness, that was ever so silent. If Castiel had had a heart, it would've been beating like crazy, the only sound the Angel would've been able to hear. 

And suddenly torches Castiel hadn't realised were there, lit up and banished the darkness and the Angel realised that they were lining the walls of a long and narrow tunnel, seemingly leading into nowhere, but Casiel had been down here before and so he was familiar with the illusions that came with a place as disturbing and terrifying as Hell. He made his way down the narrow corridor following the now very present screams and cries of misery and torture. The walls were naked stone, the torches illuminating it just the way any horror movie director would have recreated it to create tension and the ever growing anxiety in the viewers chest that just screamed 'Danger'. And that was the exact feeling Castiel felt as he examined the flames closer and realised that there were figures dancing in the fire. Small people of fire and ash as they twirled and flickered in the flames. Their dance was one of raw emotion: The feeling of loss and anger, internalised pain and agony.

The Angel reached two doors. The door to his right was a heavy wooden door that reached the ceiling in height and it was covered in blood. It wasn't only a few splatters, the blood covered half the door including the handle. Castiel knew it was blood due to the foul smell it gave off, and when he touched the dark maroon coloured liquid he noticed it was still fresh. Whatever was behind the heavy door the screams and cries he had heard since the beginning of his journey through Hell, was the obvious source. Eyes wide in horror, Castiel turned to the door on his left. This one was a dark heavy wooden door that reached the ceiling just like the first did, however this one wasn't covered in blood. It had beautiful patterns carved into the dark wood and Castiel couldn't look past the irony of such visual beauty standing in a place as dark as this one. 

When Castiel twisted the doorknob the door jumped open and revealed the most elegant hallway behind it. He stepped into the well lit room, and immediately felt the eyes of twenty demons on him. They were standing in two rows near the walls to create a way through their midst, but with the intentions to guard their King. However even the Demons knew that against an Angel they were close to defenceless. Especially since this particular Angel was Castiel, Ruler of Heaven. 

“What do you want, Angel?” An elderly woman with long greying hair and murderous black demon eyes asked Castiel.

“I'm here to see the King.” The thunderous voice that is Castiel's boomed through the room, making the Demons flinch in surprise, not having heard the powerful voice in almost a decade. 

“The King is busy”

“Don't worry about that, ma'am. He'll make time for me.” The Angel stated and pridefully marched past the agitated Demons, making his way across the room, the king's minions with no choice left than to follow the Angel, who had now pushed the doors to the throne room open and entered with the small herd of Demons stopping to watch at the door.

The room fell silent. There were at least another ten Demons standing in a line, silent even though they had been discussing precious matters mere seconds ago. Castiel felt the anxious stares on him as he made his way through the line of Demons to stand in front of the black throne that was ever so familiar to him. And there he was, just meters before him, the man he had left behind seven years ago.

Castiel's eyes widened in shock. Seven years had passed since he had seen the King last, and yet he looked like he did back then, all those years ago. His face was young, perhaps a bit younger than Castiel remembered, but he had the same face and body. The only thing that gave away his age and the horrors that he had experienced were his eyes. They were dark and complex, shadows and light dancing in them. Castiel noticed they were lost and angry, they showed the internalised pain and agony he had seen in the flames of the torches that illuminated the upper tunnels of Hell. The King had eyes that told his story, perhaps making him even more dangerous than one cared to assume.

But at the moment not the King nor the Angel were speaking, and neither were the thirty demons who were watching them so intensely. But the old friends did not care, they were staring at each other, both couldn't focus on one thing alone.   
The fact that both looked so similar yet so sadly different was eating at their brains. Each of the two were now a little older, a little wiser, the rulers of their own kingdoms.   
They had a lot much to catch up on.

“So you still have the trench coat.” The King mused with a smile, breaking the defening silence. The Angel looked down and smiled too when he realised that yes, he had kept the overcoat after all those years. With a twinkle in his ocean eyes he looked up at his old best friend and nodded.

“You don't look like a king.”

And this time it was the other mans turn to look down at himself and laugh. “No, I guess I don't.”  
He was wearing a loose black AC/DC shirt with tight blue jeans and his hair a sandy blond mess. But he had never looked more beautiful to Castiel in his entire life. 

And even after all those years, Castiel had never looked more beautiful to the King of Hell now for the entire time they had known each other.

And the tension was gone as soon as the onlookers left the throne room, leaving Castiel and Dean Winchester to catch up.


End file.
